


even love unreturned has its rainbow

by fruitglass



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love, bittersweet probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:44:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitglass/pseuds/fruitglass
Summary: It was stupid, Donghyuck knew, to like him, but it had seeded in his heart and it wouldn’t let go, thick vines clutching and curling around each and every crevice.





	even love unreturned has its rainbow

It’d been a long day.

Donghyuck felt it in his bones, a tiredness so deep it seemed rooted and settled, an intrinsic part of his DNA, and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep until he felt less like he’d been hollowed out.

Instead, they had a flight to catch.

Donghyuck had never felt as personally scorned by the universe as he did as their managed hurried them into the elevator and told them they were going straight to the airport. Donghyuck scowled down at his shoes, felt a particularly bad mood begin brewing under his skin - one of the radio hosts had made a thinly veiled joke about his skin colour and it’d left a sour taste in his mouth and a chip in his confidence.

He was tired and he was upset and he wanted to go _home_.

As the elevator lurched underneath him, making his stomach swoop and curl with butterflies, he decided it was okay to be a little selfish now and then, and if being selfish helped settle his mood then, well, who could blame him?

“Hyung,” He said, trotting to catch up with Dongyoung as they traipsed out to the car park. He clung to Dongyoung’s arm, peered up at him with the sweetest, widest eyes he could. “Can I sit next to you in the car?”

Dongyoung blinked down at him with those big, dark eyes, perpetually surprised. “Sure?” He said, as though he didn’t understand what or why Donghyuck was asking.

Donghyuck beamed at him, clung tighter to his arm even as Mark snorted behind him. His bad mood calmed, dissipated – a storm out at sea settling back into an expanse of clear, still blue on all sides.

When they clambered into the car, Donghyuck made a big show of claiming the seat next to Dongyoung, pressing himself as close to him as he could get away with, even as the others rolled their eyes at his theatrics.

He pressed his face into Dongyoung’s shoulder, breathed in the scent of his perfume underneath all the hairspray and the particular new clothes smell of airport fashion. Dongyoung didn’t complain, for once, as Donghyuck pulled his hand into his lap and played with his fingers. His hands were smooth and pale against Donghyuck’s own – milk and coffee – and his fingers were long and pretty.

It was stupid, Donghyuck knew, to like him, but it had seeded in his heart and it wouldn’t let go, thick vines clutching and curling around each and every crevice. He sighed, just a tiny wistful thing, and Dongyoung peered down at him, a little concerned tilt to his brows. He didn’t say anything, but he let Donghyuck weave their fingers together, let him rest his head on his shoulder and, by Dongyoung’s standards, it was downright comforting. 

Donghyuck dozed to the steady beat of Dongyoung’s heart and the familiar hum of the car as they drove down the highway, smooth asphalt flying by beneath them.

*

Donghyuck couldn’t sit with Dongyoung on the plane but that was okay. He felt rested, his brain soft and dreamy and pleased after napping in the car, curled into Dongyoung’s heat like a kitten. He sat next to Yuta instead and spent the entire flight trying to tame the fluttering of his heart as it danced and whirled in his ribcage, bouncing off each rib like the keys of a piano.

The airport was blessedly quiet when they arrived, the halls grand and empty and echoing. Their managers led them out to their cars and Donghyuck watched with big, curious eyes at the city that passed by as they drove to the hotel. It was dark, the moon hung low in the sky, peering over the tall buildings at him as he searched for it. The bright city lights of Shanghai blurred into one, like an over-exposed photograph, long streaks of burnt orange and bright reds curling through the cityscape.

The hotel was just as quiet as the airport when they arrived, only a couple of tired looking employees helping them find their rooms, up through winding, deserted hallways. Donghyuck felt as though he were in a dream, or a scene from an old movie, as he flopped backwards onto his bed, spread eagle against the duvet.

He squeezed his eyes shut, watched the fireworks behind his eyelids as they sparkled and glimmered, and thought of Dongyoung’s hand in his.

*

They weren’t in Shanghai for long – passing through almost, like one would to a neighbour’s house – just for a festival they’d been invited to perform at. Donghyuck couldn’t help but think it was such a shame that they’d come all this way and yet all they’d seen of the city were abstract snippets from the car, snapshots of wide, busy streets with wires criss-crossing overhead like cat’s cradle.

“Please,” He said, tugging at his manager’s sleeve. He’d been following him around for a full ten minutes, round and round the waiting room like a particularly dependant puppy. Mark was watching him keenly– Donghyuck knew he wanted to see the city just as much as he did. “Please,” He tried again and his manager sighed, heavy and tired. “What’s the point of coming all this way and not exploring at all?”

“Fine,” His manager said, finally. “But it’ll have to be this evening, when it’s not so busy out.”

Donghyuck cheered, and wrapped his manager up in a hug so tight it had him grimacing and pushing him away, over to the harried makeup artist who’d been waiting for Donghyuck the entire time.

*

True to his word, that evening, there was a knock at his and Johnny’s hotel room door, just when it had started getting dark out and the city had begun lighting up, warm and golden. They traipsed through the long hallways and gathered up the others, following after their manager like ducklings.

They went out, explored the local area with the sort of joie de vivre usually seen only in puppies or very small children, and Donghyuck felt full of energy as he picked through a local night market. 

Dongyoung was at his side, laughing at some silly joke Johnny had made, and he looked so pretty under the golden streetlights and the flickering neon lights of shop signs. Donghyuck wished, in that moment, that he could commit it to memory perfectly, that he could remember the lights highlighting Dongyoung’s nose and his cheekbones and how vivid and vibrant he looked as he laughed.

The market was crowded, locals chatting and weaving around each other, and Donghyuck drank it all in. He tugged Dongyoung over to a brightly coloured stall selling trinkets and curiosities. The shopkeeper was a tiny old woman with bright red clips in her hair and huge sparkly earrings that brushed her shoulders. She greeted them with a benevolent smile, the air of someone incredibly wise about her.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck said, grinning as he found a tiny handmade rabbit doll. It was patchwork, cute pastel colours, and it reminded him so fiercely of Dongyoung that he had to have it. “Buy me this.”

Dongyoung looked at him then, with this little curious twist to his mouth. His eyes flickered from the doll to Donghyuck, and Donghyuck felt a trickle of anxiety spread down his spine, dripping cold and slow over each vertebra. He felt his cheeks prickle with the tell-tale heat of a blush.

He was just about to put the doll down, make some stupid joke to distract him, when Dongyoung said, “Okay.” and took it from Donghyuck’s hands. He bought it with his calm, sweet Mandarin, even as he fumbled over the pronunciation, and the shopkeeper sent Donghyuck such a knowing a look that he felt a little ill. He clutched the little paper bag to his chest, felt his heart beating furiously against the tips of his fingers.

As they walked back to the hotel later, he hung back and watched as the others chatted and laughed. The city was slowing down, the cool night air brushing over his cheekbones and carding through his hair, and he felt… He felt odd, like he’d been shaken up and his brain was still bouncing around in his skull.

It was so weird, liking someone who didn’t like you back. Donghyuck watched Dongyoung as he bickered with Taeyong, as they nudged and elbowed at each other, and he felt both affection and longing twisting through his veins. 

It was lovely and it was awful – a lacewing fluttering through the air, elegant and sweet, soon to die.

*

“Hey,” Johnny said, sitting on the edge of Donghyuck’s bed. He was fresh from the shower, hair damp and soft, and he smelt strongly of the hotel bodywash, the kind that comes in tiny bottles that everyone steals. Donghyuck peered up at him from where he was curled up under his duvet, playing Animal Crossing on his phone.

“Hi?”

Johnny paused for a moment. He looked conflicted, mouth twisted into a moue.

“You like Dongyoung, right?”

Donghyuck startled so hard that he dropped his phone, and it smacked against his nose hard enough to sting. “What?” He hissed, staring at Johnny. His face was burning, a forest fire lit by a single ember.

“Hey, hey,” Johnny had his hands up, placating. “I’m not, like, mad or anything. I just, I kind of realised earlier at the market and I wanted to talk to you about it."

“I don’t want to,” Donghyuck said. He was pouting again, and he felt stupid, childish. He blinked hard, looked away from the concern on Johnny’s face.

“Dude,” Johnny said. “It’s fine that you like him. I swear I’m not freaked out or anything.”

“Wow, great,” Donghyuck said and his voice was tight. Some part of him loosened though, a little door in his chest opened and let out the pressure at Johnny’s words. He wasn’t stupid – he knew that liking another boy could be a problem – and it was gently reassuring to hear Johnny talk about it like it wasn’t an issue.

“Seriously,” Johnny carried on. He ran a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to let you know you can talk to me about it. It’s gotta be tough knowing…”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck said, as Johnny trailed off. “Knowing that he’ll never like me back.” He meant for it to come out cold, scathing enough that Johnny would leave it alone, but instead it came out choked. His heart twisted in his chest.

“Oh, kiddo,” Johnny said, and his voice was soft. He crawled across the bed, sat next to Donghyuck who twisted away so he wouldn't be able to see his face. Johnny rested a warm hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s fine,” Donghyuck said, and it was, for the most part. “I’m not stupid. I know he won’t ever like me back.”

“He could do,” Johnny said. “One day.”

Donghyuck snorted, and his eyes stung with unshed tears. It ached, all of a sudden, the vines around his heart constricting, tighter and tighter. “As if.”

“I didn’t bring it up to make you sad,” Johnny said, apologetic. “I just wanted you to know you could talk to me about it if it got, like, too upsetting.”

“I’m fine, hyung, really,” Donghyuck said, and sat up. Johnny looked at him, eyes searching his face, and Donghyuck knew his eyes were glassy, his cheeks warm. “It’s… I’m not expecting anything from him, ever, and I’m okay with that.” He put his chin in his hands, curled his fingers against his jaw. “It’s sad sometimes, but most of the time it’s happy. It’s a good thing to like someone, right?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, and the look in his eyes was undoubtedly fond. He reached out then and ruffled Donghyuck’s hair vigorously. “You’re a good kid, you know?”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes and pushed at Johnny to get off his bed. “Yeah, yeah,” He said, but he smiled, just a little. “Goodnight.”

He curled back up in bed, tugged the duvet over his head and squeezed his eyes shut in the dark. He listened as Johnny got ready for bed, the gentle creak of the floor beneath him and the click of the switch as he turned the lights out. 

His heart was still aching in his chest, throbbing as he thought about Dongyoung, how he would only ever look at him as a younger brother. He thought about Dongyoung’s pretty hands and his pretty eyes and his pretty smile. He thought about that look Dongyoung had given him earlier – that little curious expression tucked into the curve of his mouth.

He sighed, heavy and thick with melancholy. He knew it was hopeless, his silly crush, but he didn’t want to give it up. He wanted to hold it close to his chest, cradle it in his hands like a tiny, fluttering chick, still soft with downy, baby feathers, destined to never flourish or grow.

He curled his hands together, clutched them over his heart under the covers, and if he let a couple of tears curl down his cheeks, well, no one had to know. He breathed in, slow and even, and listened to the foreign city as it moved and breathed outside, and he thought to himself, no matter how sad it made him, there was always more.

While it was here, while it was still sweet and warm and living in his fluttering heart, he would cherish it.

Who knew what the future held anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> Truly the most self-indulgent fic ever but Donghyuck really is [so sweet on Doyoung](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvVBDJo8Yws) & I just had to write sweet puppy Donghyuck with a sweet puppy crush. Hopefully it's not too odd or sad!!!
> 
> I'm also over on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fruitglass) if you would like to say hello!


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